The girl who had once fallen apart due to heartbreak, daring in love and hatred at eighteen, had now stepped into the workplace, her stubbornness and career drive undiminished.
The greenness in her brows and eyes had slightly faded, honed by worldly experiences, her words and actions had acquired a touch more maturity and steadiness.
Their second encounter took place at the University of Hong Kong's anniversary celebrations, to which Chen Jingyuan was invited.
At that time, Liang Weining was a junior, speaking onstage as a representative of the students, standing straight as an arrow before the microphone, her clear, conviction-filled eyes inadvertently deepening his impression of her.
The third time they met, Liang Weining had graduated from college.
The young woman, dressed in professional attire, holding her resume, sat in the office on the top floor.
It was the final round of interviews for the secretary position.
Reviewed personally by him.
In the end, among five highly educated competitors, he chose her.
Three encounters in total.
As an onlooker, Chen Jingyuan witnessed her grow and transform, step by step.
But Liang Weining, it seemed, was entirely unaware of their initial meeting.
She wasn't a thick-skinned person.
It just never occurred to her that the man who had passed her a handkerchief from behind, urging her to dry her tears back at the Tanzhe Temple in the Beijing suburbs, would one day be her boss.
The only thing she remembered was that the owner of the handkerchief had a pair of perfectly slender hands and the distinguished, poised silhouette of his retreating back.
That was all.
The lengthy silence from Chen Jingyuan was her answer to whether she should transfer to the Public Relations department or not.
Liang Weining couldn't quite grasp his mood at the moment, and thus did not dare to speak rashly again.
Her mind wandered for only a second before she heard the light clink of a teacup being set on the desk; she looked up instinctively, her gaze just grazing the man's slightly cold jawline after he had finished his tea.
Downward her eyes traveled, no excess decoration in sight, the shirt's fine material smooth and luxurious, with a pure black collar neatly framing his full and sensual Adam's apple. She could imagine just how the tea had traveled down the man's throat.
She was in trouble.
What was she staring at?
Feeling a dryness in her throat, Liang Weining turned away and softly reminded, "The tea must be getting cold, would you like me to get you a fresh cup?"
With the cigarette perched on his lip, Chen Jingyuan responded that there was no need for a new cup.
Within her field of vision, the flame of the lighter sprung up a pale blue, the sparks reflecting the man's shadowed and profound features. Liang Weining couldn't tear her gaze away, feeling as if she was somehow bewitched tonight.
Ignoring the cooling tea, and seeing it was getting late, Chen Jingyuan moved straight to the point this time.
Slowly exhaling a plume of smoke, he looked at the person before him and asked, "If you were a TV station, and you deliberately introduced a personal affair topic during a financial interview, what kind of message would likely unfold?"
This was the crux of it.
Liang Weining shifted her gaze subtly and hesitated for two seconds before she brought up an unrelated matter.
"Half a month ago, the media caught a local medical magnate with his daughter playing golf with the chairman of Zhonggang at a private course. The two heads of the families appeared to be getting along splendidly. At that time, there were rumors that the two enterprises might be planning a marriage alliance in the future."
She didn't beat around the bush, speaking quite bluntly.
The implications were profound, and she didn't need to elaborate; Chen Jingyuan would surely understand them himself.
Putting aside whether the talk of a marriage alliance was true or not.
Given the television station's infamous record, not just the matter of choosing a spouse, but a few minutes of personal interview on the spot, combined with previous gossip, regardless of how watertight the interviewee's answers were, those people could always pick out so-called 'significant information' from the words and use it to muddle the audience and guide market sentiment.
This behavior wasn't illegal.
But it was pretty disgusting.
She didn't know why Mr. Chen agreed to the interviews, especially twice in just half a year.
If something deviates from the norm, there must be deeper reasons.
She was curious what kind of game the big shot was playing.
Lost in these thoughts, Liang Weining was so engrossed that she missed the fleeting shadow that crossed Chen Jingyuan's eyes when he heard 'marriage alliance.'
Hong Kong tabloids often like to catch at shadows.
But this was the first time such rumors had reached his ears.
After all, in the entire board office, probably only Secretary Liang dared to discuss his personal affairs so openly and unreservedly in front of him.
The air was silent; the cigarette between the man's fingers burned past half its length. Liang Weining watched in silence as he extended his arm to tap the ash into the black stone ashtray. The quiet fall of the ash, combined with his calm and composed movements, made her earlier actions seem as ridiculous as a monkey performing acrobatics.
Really, it was enough to kill an eunuch from the frustration.
If it weren't for the potential impact on the stock situation after the interview aired, she wouldn't bother herself with such concerns.
Liang Weining cast her eyes down, feeling a tad morose.
"How much is the position?"
Chen Jingyuan's hand, holding the cigarette, rested casually on the table; as he spoke, his gaze slowly drifted towards the girl.
His sudden question clearly stunned Liang Weining.
Even so, she still wanted to struggle a bit more.
Feigning ignorance, she looked confused, "What position?"
Playing dumb was indeed somewhat a talent of hers.
It was late at night, and Chen Jingyuan swept a cold, indifferent glance at her, put out the half-smoked cigarette, stood up, grabbed his suit jacket, and prepared to leave.
Seeing this, Liang Weining quickly spoke up: "Not much, fifty thousand."
Indeed, to a tycoon, this amount wasn't much.
But she was just a wage earner.
Without stopping, Chen Jingyuan, having heard her, strode out. Before leaving, he advised indifferently, "Pack up and go to the underground garage. It's late; have the driver take you home."
"Of course, thank you, Mr. Chen."
The girl's chirpy voice followed immediately.
From an unseen angle, Chen Jingyuan's lips slightly lifted, truly curious about the myriad things that filled her little head.
Her outspokenness tonight truly surprised him.
In this game, even his most trusted subordinates, whom he had followed for years, were lost and perplexed, yet a naive little girl had seen things clear as day.
Four years ago, the bold words she had spoken at Tanzhe Temple in the Beijing suburbs now seemed far from empty talk.
Back in the secretarial office, Liang Weining carefully saved the documents and then shut down the computer.
As she was about to leave, her peripheral vision unintentionally swept over the piece of scrap paper on the desk.
Forget it.
She grabbed it thoughtlessly and took it with her, locking the door behind her as she left the top floor.
She took the elevator down to level B2.
The night was tranquil, the sound of her high heels echoing in the cold, empty garage.
Approaching the black business van, the driver attentively opened the door for her. Liang Weining said, "Thank you," smoothed her skirt, and bent down to get inside.
The air carried her faint fragrance, weaving into the space of the backseat.
It wasn't until the man's deep gaze settled on her that Liang Weining realized, belatedly, that the big boss was also in the car.
No, the stretched Pullman.
She suddenly remembered, Xu Zhou had mentioned yesterday that Mr. Chen's official car had been sent for maintenance.
Liang Weining gave the man a calm smile and turned to take her seat properly.
The black sedan left the garage and moved smoothly through the silent streets of the winter night.
It was the first time Liang Weining's seat was level with Chen Jingyuan's, so much so that she didn't dare let even her peripheral vision stray during the entirety of the journey.
As they neared the Kwai Tsing District, the man who had been silent the whole way finally spoke up in a low voice, "Last time I asked you to register a temporary car, any problems with that?"